Suledin Revas
by MadamPuddifoot
Summary: See Dragon Age: Inquisition through the eyes of Solas. Eventually will become a Solas/F! Lavellan


I have also published this work at AO3 under the same username.

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 _The darkness stirs. Senses return. He will be of this world again. A thousand years of slumber; the foci will be recharged. The mistake must be reversed._

His eyes flung open. His pupils contracted as the piercing sunlight penetrating the room. The smell of earth stung his nostrils, and there was a cool breeze that tickled his fingertips.

Solas sat up, and examined his surroundings. The wooden hut was maintained quite well as he slept. His agents must have ensured it remained undisturbed, so that when his time came to reverse the past, he could do so without conflict.

Lifting his arms, and swinging his legs off the bed he had laid in, Solas attempted to stand. The armor remaining on his body while he slept creaked with age, yearning for care. He slowly removed it, needing lighter material to move more freely, and to become re accustom to his moving body.

An armoire sat in the corner of the room, and Solas made his way over to it. A cloak was within, as well as elven sandals, animal skins, and a wooden stave.

Solas removed the items from the armoire and put them on slowly. He placed the cloak over his head, shielding his face from direct contact. As he reached for his stave, he heard a voice speak from outside the hut.

"Shhh, we don't want to attract outsiders. Ravi said he'd be back in a few hours so we could be briefed, but I haven't seen him since," said a hushed voiced.

Solas grew curious. With his face obscured, he secured the stave on his back and made to exit the room. He opened the door quietly.

Two elven men stood nearby, both of which became startled as they saw Solas standing before them.

"Aneth ara. I suspect you have questions," Solas slowly uttered, his voice remaining as strong as ever, despite his long slumber. "I cannot answer them now. Does it remain?"

The men glanced at each other and nodded.

"It remains," stuttered one of the men.

"You needn't be nervous, falon. Show me."

The men led Solas to the back of the hut. There was a dark circular patch in the ground. One of the elven men knelt and touched it, and the surface bubbled as though made of liquid. It slowly parted, revealing ornate steps leading to an underground room.

"Ma serannas. Please remain here. I have catching up to do," Solas said to the men.

"As you wish, my lord," said one of the elven men as they bowed and stepped aside.

Solas made his way down the steps. He always hated the "lordship" bestowed upon him. He didn't wish to be feared, but he supposed being Fen' Harel had that sort of effect on people.

He reached the bottom of the steps. The room was small and dark, impenetrable by the light. A scone was on the wall, and with a wave of his hand, he energized it with veilfire, illuminating the small room in a dark green glow.

In a corner of the room, a glowing green orb hovered in what appeared to be a binding spell. Green sparks came off it in intervals, and the grooves formed patterns that moved around the orb, as if it were alive.

Solas placed both palms around the spell that caged the orb. It slowly dissipated, yet the orb remained hovering. He gently caressed it.

"Soon, we will correct our mistake. I mustn't fail again." He closed his eyes and fought back anger with himself. When he sealed away the Evanuris and separated the worlds, he had no idea the devastation he wrought. He watched as his world was destroyed, countless spirits and beings perished before his eyes, and towering buildings twisted inward and became useless. The elves that remained were trapped on the other side of the Veil, where spirits could no longer roam, lest become perverted and twisted against their very nature.

He knew he had to correct what he had done. His attempt to reverse the damage he had done during that time had failed, and he collapsed from exhaustion. It was then, he decided, to regain his strength by entering Uthenera before attempting the reversal again. He will undo his greatest crime. He must.

He picked the orb up and it stopped sparking and moving. He let out a deep sigh, and attempted to reanimate it. This was the key to bringing back what once was.

It sparked and the grooves moved briefly, before going out once again. He did not have enough strength yet. He must rebuild his power.

He placed the orb in his pocket, put out the veilfire, and made his way back up the ornate staircase. As he arrived back on the surface, his eyes glowed and the hole sealed itself.

He beckoned for the elven men, who had been waiting patiently on the side of the hut, to follow him into the surrounding woods.

Solas had walked the Fade for the last thousand years, experiencing the history and changes to the world through the eyes of spirits. He wanted to have the agents explain the details to him, however, to ensure he had a full grasp of what had occurred, and to know if he could truly trust them. A test, of sorts.

"What are your names?" he asked them.

The first elven man, who had spoken of a fellow agent called Ravi, had long brown hair, large green eyes, and seemed astounded that Fen' Harel actually existed.

"My name is Arlen, my lord," he squeaked out.

His friend had short black hair, honey eyes, and seemed more confident.

"And I am Feros, sir." He bowed his head.

"Ma serannas. Tell me of this land, Arlen and Feros," Solas stated. "A thousand years have passed. Will we be disturbed here?"

"No, sir. The Dalish left a few weeks ago, but we were able to maintain privacy here," Feros stated.

They came upon a small cove, with stones low enough to sit upon. Solas gestured for the men to sit, and so they did. Solas leaned against a tree..

"Tell me more of these Dalish," said Solas.

"The Dalish are small clans of elves who live away from normal society. They are trying to piece together the forgotten times of old, but they have many misconceptions. We, agents of Fen'Harel, have steered clear of them, for they do not wish to know what we try to bestow, and believe we are telling fibs to undermine their culture, since we do not bear the vallaslin of the gods."

"I see," Solas said. "And what do they know of me?"

Arlen nervously laughed. "They believe you to be a traitor, my lord. The Dread Wolf, the trickster. Trapping their beloved gods by luring them into a trap."

Solas raised an eyebrow. "How many clans are there? Do many of our people remain?"

Feros shifted uncomfortably. "Well, sir, there are quite a few clans around most of Thedas. Most try to stay hidden, though, so we might not have come across most. There are still the alienages to address, however."

"I am to assume our people reside in these alienages, as well?" Solas asked.

Feros' and Arlen's face hardened.

"Yes, sir. These poor bastards. In normal society, humans rule. This is why the Dalish remain nomadic. They believe it to be a better fate," stated Feros.

"What happens to the elves in the alienage?" Solas asked.

"They remain there, poverty stricken, until some lord or lady decides they need a servant," said Arlen.

"Have they done nothing to change their circumstances?" Solas asked, angrily. Being reminded of the cruel injustice his people suffered at his hands wasn't something he wanted to get into upon awakening. He destroyed his world, and in turn destroyed his people, subjecting them to servitude once more. He could not forgive himself.

Arlen and Feros remained silent.

They heard rustling in the bushes nearby. Had they been talking loud?

Solas moved swiftly, grabbed his stave, and focused his magical energy into a force field around himself. His eyes glowed white, prepared for whatever may come.

Arlen and Feros jumped to their feet, as well, and drew their bows, pointing the arrow at the bush where the source of the noise came from.

"Masal din'an! Reveal yourself!" Solas shouted.

And elven man stepped out of the bush, his arms raised.

"Ar falon, Fen' Harel," said the elven man. He was tall and elegant, with long, white, dread locked hair. The front of his hair was held back with what looked like the upper part of a wolf jaw bone. "Ar Ravi, Fen' Harel, the leader of your remaining agents."

Solas removed his barrier, and Feros and Arlen put away their bows.

"Andaran atish'an, lethalin," Solas remarked.

"Ir abelas, I didn't mean to startle you. I noticed the hut had been abandoned, and searched for you with this," Ravi handed Solas a necklace with a wolf mandible attached.

"Ma serannas," Solas said, and placed the necklace around his neck.

"I assume you're being caught up on recent events. However, there is a pressing issue at hand, aside from the mage rebellion," Ravi started.

"The mages are rebelling?" Solas inquired. He, of course, already knew this. He watched, in the Fade, as a tormented spirit, perturbed by the cruelties subjected to those with magical gifts had to endure, destroyed a religious symbol. It garnered much response from both sides of the issue, and gave mages just the push they needed to begin the full blown assault.

"Ah, haven't arrived at that part, have we?" Ravi laughed. "Indeed. A mage man, by the name of Anders, blew up a chantry in Kirkwall. The mages in Orlais were already voting on whether or not they would begin a rebellion. That solidified things. As did the discovery that the rite of tranquility can be reversed."

"Rite of Tranquility?" Solas asked. This was yet another thing Solas did not wish to be reminded of. This magical castration was the worst insult, and quite possibly the worst consequence his actions resulted in.

"Sit down, it's quite horrifying." Ravi beckoned him to sit.

Solas sat. He was beginning to feel himself tremble with anger. He must contain his emotions. Hear their view of the history that had transpired.

"The rite of tranquility was granted to the mages who could not control their power. Mages are forced to undergo a test called the harrowing. If they become tempted by a demon while walking the Fade, the Templar Order would make the mage tranquil, removing any and all connection to the Fade and magic, rendering them completely devoid of emotion.

Mages were taken to circle towers once they were found practicing magic, many even as babies, so that they could be taught to control their powers and avoid temptation. 'Magic must serve man and never rule over him'. This is a common statement among many Andrastians. The mage rebellion ended these circles. Now, however, they are forming a conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They are meeting with the divine of the Andrastian organization in order to put the rebellion to rest. This leads me into what I needed to say."

Solas was beyond furious. He couldn't hide the anger from his face. All of this was a result of his actions a thousand years ago. All of this was his fault. All the more reason to move forward with his plan and restore what once was.

Solas let out a long sigh. He could tell Ravi had some important news. He was smart, and it was apparent that the knowledge passed down from the original agents of Fen' Harel had stuck with him for quite some time.

"There is a group of rogue mages from Tevinter calling themselves the Venetori. I spotted a group not far from here, and they kept referring to their leader as 'The Elder One'. They seem to believe this Elder One will restore the former glory of the Tevinter Imperium, before mages were forced to grow up in circle towers."

"Who is this Elder One?" asked Solas. This hardly seemed important, as no matter which part of history you live, there is always someone fighting for power.

"According to my reports, he is Corypheus, an ancient Tevinter Magister who is one of the several magisters that were believed to have assaulted the Golden City and began the blight. These Venetori mages believe he can still achieve godhood. I believe he must be stopped. He may foil your plans."

This is why it was important. Solas thought long and hard about this. The weight of the foci in his pocket pressed against him. Perhaps there was a way to speed up the process of the reversal, and get rid of this dangerous ancient magister, too. They have provided him enough information. He could trust them.

"I believe we can deal with the magister," he said to them.

They exchanged glances and nodded.

Ravi stepped forward.

"Whatever you need, Fen' Harel, we are devoted to you," he exclaimed, kneeling before Solas.

Solas grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

"No need for that, we are equals," said Solas. He placed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the dormant foci.

Ravi's eyes widened. "You're going to hand him your foci? Do you even know what he might be able to do with it?"

Solas smiled.

"Certainly. He will unlock it, and the reaction should kill him. He will be no longer be an issue."

Ravi looked concerned.

"No need to worry," Solas continued. "I will hide it in a secret location. I need you to leak its location to the Venetori mages so that they can tell this Elder One of its location."

Ravi pulled out a map, and handed it to Solas.

Solas placed his finger on a spot on the map and burned a dot into it.

"This is where is will remain, in the trunk of the largest tree," Solas stated. He needed to be sure it was far enough away from his place of rest, in case he needed to come back.

Ravi nodded, rolled up the map, and beckoned the others to follow.

"Gather the others, and we shall meet eventually. Remain in the shadows," Solas stated, nodded to them, and turned on his heel, and continued out of the grove.

Solas traveled for the next day, until he reached a tree that looked as though it were the largest in the forest. Here, he chipped at the bark until he created a hole large enough to fit his foci. He placed it inside, replaced the bark, and whisper a spell over it.

Ensuring it was secure, he began his travels again, to become familiarized with the areas.

As he travelled, he carefully avoided any mage or templar conflicts he might have come into contact with. He would now be labeled an apostate, but his goal was clear, and he would let nothing stand in his way.

After a few more days, he found a wooden tavern that didn't seem too over run. It was near the mountain in which the Temple of Sacred Ashes was located. Because the conclave was so soon, the rest of the area was busy with mages and templars from all over Thedas.

The tavern held rooms, so he needn't travel much more until he gained word of what happened to his foci and this Elder One.

He opened the tavern door. It was dark and dingy, but he was in no place to complain. The skins he dressed himself in fortunately had a small pouch of sovereigns.

"No mages," exclaimed the barman, as he watch Solas was small but bulky, with a rough face and dirty beard. He was cleaning a glass with a rag that had seen better days.

"I assure you, I mean you no harm. I merely seek refuge, for a short time," Solas stated, and he dangled the bag of sovereigns in front of the man. It had become apparent to him, while he walked the Fade, that money spoke louder than words in the current times.

The man grunted.

"If you'd feel more comfortable, I can rent a room and leave my staff there," Solas proposed.

"Blimey, alright!" The man exclaimed, and waved his hand toward the room in the back of the tavern.

"Thank you."

Solas made his way to the room, and left his staff and cloak behind. He quickly returned to the bar.

"Oh no, didn't know you were a knife-ear, too!" The man said, shaking his head. "I bet you knicked that pouch off a poor noblewoman."

"I assure you, I harmed no one in my journeys. I am simply a traveler, attempting to experience the world," Solas smiled.

"You say that as if were easy for someone in your predicament. A mage and a knife-ear? I suppose the best thing you have going for you is that you don't have those silly markings all over you face like some of the others," the barman said. "I could assume you escaped from an alienage. But so long as you pay me, I don't sodding care!"

"Thank you. May I ask you your name?" Solas asked.

"The name's Firkin," the man said. "Was kicked out of Orzammar, been a surfacer ever since. I prefer it, even if I feel like I'll fall into the sky eventually."

"I see," replied Solas. "Do you have tea?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "You think I would serve such swine here," he grumbled as he poured a glass for Solas.

"I appreciate it," Solas smiled, and he took a sip. "Bleh."

"Why'd you order if if you don't like it?" Firkin asked.

"Helps to clear the mind."

"What's the bone necklace for? Trying to blend in with those Rivaini weirdos?" Firkin asked.

"It was a kill I was most proud of. I am sure you would have been too," said Solas.

"Ha!"

Solas spent a few more days at the tavern, observing the people who came and went, listening to tales and hearing of the conclave. He had not heard any word from his agents as of yet, and therefore was reluctant to travel much further away.

On the day of the conclave, Solas decided he would try to get closer to hear word of what decision would be made regarding the rebellion.

He paid Firkin for his stay and bid him farewell, before moving toward Haven, the town at the foot of the mountain where the Temple of Sacred Ashes resided.

He never made it on time. Before he reached the small town, a giant explosion shook the earth, and a hole was ripped into the veil.

Solas peered up at the breach. He knew what had happened. He must recover his foci.


End file.
